


Something just like this

by Apartmentfortytwo



Series: A Luthor & a Super [4]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Bi Kara Danvers, F/F, Fluff, I had this idea roaming around my head, Kara Zor-El is a fallen angel and Lena Luthor loves her, Lena knows Kara is supergirl, Lots of it, SuperCorp, and I could finally write it down, and fluff, karlena
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 20:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11066100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apartmentfortytwo/pseuds/Apartmentfortytwo
Summary: Kara Danvers is a great person.Kara Zor-El is her person.Will the hero be there for Lena when she needs her the most?





	Something just like this

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo, this is angsty. Sorta? Lena needs a hug, that's all. And since the writers refuse to have her getting more than one every bunch of episodes, here I am, to fulfill. Hope y'all like it!

She’s the smartest woman you have ever met in so long, ever since you landed on Earth. She’s the brightest, kindest, and you wonder how you got so lucky to be graced with her existence, attached to your own, in the same timeline, in this damn multiverse. Because Lena Luthor is your  _ best friend _ and now your  _ girlfriend _ . And if that doesn’t make you giddier and happier than every pot sticker would in this world, you are not sure how to explain it.

Lena makes you feel comfortable, in love, cared for. She’s a very,  _ very _ good listener. She pays attention. To details, to your words, to the way your body reacts to anything. She’s always ahead of your needs, even when you didn’t know you had that need to begin with. Lena is  _ there. _

So when your call doesn’t go through, when her secretary tells you she took the day off, you worry. Because you’ve paid attention too. You’ve listened, and read her body and the sound of her voice, even with the smallest of things. Because you  _ care _ , and because it’s just what you naturally did when you first met her. You  _ learned _ her. And it wasn’t until your own feelings screamed at you to tell her that you understood why. 

Now, you find yourself hovering over the city, focusing, narrowing the sounds to a particular one. Because  when you spend enough time pressing someone’s heart to yours, you memorize the sound of it thumping, you can hear it like your name whispered across a crowded room.* For a minute, you panic, because your worries and the sounds of the city, drown it. But it’s there. When your heightened senses pick it up between the turmoil of the world, you relax, slightly. Because honestly, why isn’t she answering her phone and/or at work, like she usually does? 

The flight there is short, or it should be. But the dread, and worry overtake your perception of time and it feels like an eternity until you’re finally landing in her balcony, the one she had specially redesigned to let you land there. The curtains are drawn back, and you get a clear sight of the inside of the penthouse your girlfriend lives in. And for a second, you don’t see her. Until her pale arm gets out of a small cocoon of blankets, that she’s curled into, against the armrest of her long couch. She was reaching for the glass resting on the coffee table, a glass with whiskey. 

A light tap on the window startles her, and you hoped you had been a little less evident about your presence. Maybe she needed to be alone? Maybe she needed to isolate. But you were having none of it until she told you what was so wrong to shy Lena Luthor away from the world, because little to nothing ever did so. 

Her reddened eyes raise from her position, and connect with worried blue ones of your own. You notice the way her lower lip quivers, and faster than you ever thought you could move, you were by her side, pulling her into your embrace, feeling her entire, smaller frame, shake with the wracking sobs that whatever it was that was wrong were eliciting on your usually stoic girlfriend. Her head just shakes, and her mouth is covered by a pale, trembling hand. And you wonder for a second if anyone has hurt her. If something is there to be done, that you can do, to help her out of this state. 

But in all this time, you’ve learned something very valuable about Lena Luthor. She’ll talk on her own accord. She’ll share, she’ll explain. But on her own time. So when seconds tick into minutes, and minutes tick into an hour, you grew even more patient. Because as much as you wanna know, you also want her to feel  _ safe _ and  _ comforted _ . So you wait. 

Her violent shakes have slowed down, and it takes one look down, to the mess of a woman into your arms, to know that she’s going to talk soon. That she’s working the words in that big, wonderful brain of hers. 

“Today’s been 9 years since my father died.” 

And it hit you. It was like a tidal wave. You’ve never expected that to be the reason of Lena retracting from the world. You thought it was you, something you had done. Maybe something you had said, and even then, it wouldn’t have been that usual because if anything, Lena has always spoken to you about what upsets her. She’s always been upfront and never shied back from expressing discomfort. This was why. Lionel. The only adult that had been somewhat half decent with Lena while she grew up. He had died 9 years ago, and Lena was a mess. Lena was crying, and drinking, and Kara was mostly certain that she was drunk, and had been for hours now. How did her small body take such an ungodly amount of alcohol, was beyond the Kryptonian. Perhaps Lena was like Alex. She had years of practice. That didn’t stop Kara from worrying. 

“Lena… I’m so sorry…” 

The CEO simply bit onto her lower lip, to stop it from quivering and sending her spiralling into another break down. Every time they were over, she thought she had ran out of tears. Guess she was wrong. 

“I- Kara, I’m very sorry I didn’t warn you about this I just-- I didn’t want to worry you.” 

And your heart breaks right then and there, because she’s protecting  _ you _ when the one suffering and going through a bitter moment is  _ her. _ How was this woman considered evil? People really,  _ really _ needed to get to know Lena. She was literally the most selfless human Kara had ever came across. 

“Don’t. Lee, please. I would never blame you. If you need space, I can get going. I was overly worried, because well- You didn’t pick up your phone and Jess said you scheduled the day off last night....” 

Her eyes connect with yours, and her hand rests on your cheek, rubbing a thumb on your cheekbone, with… Confusion? 

“What did I  _ ever _ do to deserve you, Kara Zor-El?” 

Her voice is laced with promise, love and wonder. Much like your voice every time it’s directed to her. A small, faint blush covers your features and you wonder what ever did she think of herself to consider her own person unworthy of the greatest love story anyone could provide her with. “Let’s get you to bed, Lena Luthor.” Your voice is filled with tenderness. Adoration. With  _ care. _ Because you will always  _ care _ . 

Before you know it, her arms are around your neck, and your body is in motion towards her bedroom. You need her to sleep off the drunken state she had submerged into. 

Letting her down on the bed, and in one quick motion, before she can realize of your arms absenting around her body, you’ve changed out of your suit and into the usual tank top you have underneath, and panties. And she’s thankful for the closeness. Because she’s barely wearing anything as it is. Just yoga pants and a sports bra.    
  
Your arm looped around her waist, tugging her closer to your body, with no effort. Her head found the crook of your neck, and she curled to your side, one hand wrapped around your torso.    
  
“Thank you…” She muttered, and you were certain if you didn’t have heightened senses, you’d have never heard it. But wonder fills you up entirely. It’s been a whole year since you and Lena started dating, and whenever you were  _ there _ for her, she  _ thanked you _ as if being her girlfriend was something that took effort out of you.    
  
Your hand finds her hair, and you scratch lightly on the skin of her scalp, trying to soothe any worry that could be creasing in her brain “What for, a ghrá?” You glance down, and she’s smiling brightly at the nickname you’ve adopted for moments like this. When you two are vulnerable and allowing the other in “Being here… Looking for me even when I was unreachable.” And you can’t help but feel tears welling up in your eyes because how could someone give up on this soul? This amazing, tender but strong and careful soul? How could anyone  _ hurt _ her purposely? Humankind was sometimes too confusing for you, the Kryptonian with the good heart, a nickname she had given you while you two were just friends.

“Always. I promised you, remember?” 

And Lena laughs through her tears, and her pain and you just continue to run your fingers through her hair and tighten your hold on her because all you want is for her to feel  _ safe _ and  _ loved _ much like you feel after a long day, when her arms wrap around you under a sun lamp, despite the fact that she can’t sleep with lights on. She does the effort, for you. So you do the effort, for her. 

Before you know it, she’s trembling with the strong force of yet another break down and you hold her through it. You promised her you’d love her through her storms and sunfields, so here you are, holding her, worrying about her safety, comforting her.  _ Loving  _ her. It takes two hours for her to finally relax, starting to breathe more calmly, trying to succumb to morpheus. Your hand hasn’t stopped moving, and your soothing words haven’t stopped flowing from you. From Kryptonian lullabies, to Irish fairy tales you knew she loved, to songs you two share a memory with. Anything that would help.

Finally, she’s deeply asleep, mumbling small things in her sleep. Which you’ve always found adorable, because one night you woke up to her seemingly scribbling in the air, while mumbling incoherent stuff, until you figured she was working on her science projects in her sleep. Leave Lena Luthor to be unable to shut her brain off just for a few hours of sleep. But now, she’s whispering your name, and small giggles and sighs escape her. And she seems  _ happy. _ Content enough with the fact that she was  _ okay _ even for the time being, you let yourself relax, and bask into the scent that was purely her, with your nose buried in her hair. 

You fell asleep like that. Comforting her and being comforted. 

Loving and being loved.

Happy.

**Author's Note:**

> * This line isn't mine, it belongs to the amazing Ashley Wylde and one of her amazing poems. If y'all want to check her blog out, she's a great LGBTQ+ representative and also a talented artist. 
> 
> http://everydaygay.tumblr.com/
> 
> http://ashleywyldepoetry.tumblr.com/
> 
> The piece I used was from one of her poems, that was completely unrelated to this fanfic! But kudos to you if you find which one!


End file.
